I had my first, and hopefully last MRI today. Results in a few days, but I suspect they’ll find my headbone as empty as ever.
But for those of you who’ve never had the pleasure, here’s what happens.
In the doctor’s waiting room they have you fill out paperwork. I signed so many forms I think I might have bought a new car, but maybe not. Anyway, you have to remove all your glasses, metal, jewelery, and stuff before you go into the room, otherwise it gets sucked through your body and pins you to the wall like a bug on a windshield, or maybe not but it sounds about right.
A nice little girl technician has you lay down on a narrow table, and she puts a cage looking thing over your head, gives you ear plugs, and then your whole body slides inside a coffin sized tube and then the fun begins. On “House” and shows of that ilk, when the put you in the MRI machine is about when your skin starts sliding off your bones or your innards come out your nose. None of that happened and I’m glad because I wouldn’t much care for that.
It went “Zip” when it moved, and “Bop” when it stopped,
and “Whirrr” when it stood still.
I never knew just what it was and I guess I never will.
I guess at this point, I should tell you why this post is titled how it is. Last year or so, we got a really nice Kitchen Aid mixer. The kind that sits on the counter and the bowl is attached to it and once you use one, you’ll never use a hand held mixer again. It’s really well made. I know that, because when you turn it on, it hardly makes a sound. I was a machinist at one time, and I know that a well made piece of machinery has parts that fit together well, with very close tolerances so when it moves, there aren’t a lot of rattles and noise. This is one reason a luxury car is quite, and a Yugo sounds like, well, like a Yugo.
So my question is, since this MRI machine I was in probably cost more than the total worth of every home I’ve ever lived in put together, why in the world does it sound like a cement mixer full of bowing balls and cats? Unhappy cats.
Well anyway, after 20 or 30 minutes of listening to the Car Alarm Boogie they pull you out of the coffin tube and send you on your way. All in all, I suppose I’ve been in worse motels.